The Natural Progression of Things
by WynterExpress
Summary: Some of the best relationships come from friendships, and the friendship Harry and Hermione share goes down in the history books. Who's to say that this is where it ends?[Remake of Force it on a Girl, Why Don't You?]


**This is a completely different, yet somewhat similar, updated version of ****_Force it on a Girl, Why Don't You?_**** I don't know how often I will be able to post this story as I am a university student now, but I will see it to completion eventually.**

**I decided to take Lavender away from the story and replace her with Daphne, because I thought that realistically Hermione would not be friends with the girl she once detested vehemently.**

**I have no beta for this story because, as I said, I'm going to be rather sporadic with the posting process, so I'd like to consider anyone reading this a potential beta, telling me what does and doesn't work for this story. Chapters will be short, I'm afraid, but my chapters are always this way so it shouldn't be much of a surprise for returning readers.**

**If you have any questions or anything else you'd like to point out about the story, feel free to message me, and I will get back to you by the next chapter. Having made you read all of this, and now feeling guilty, onward to the piece, cheers!**

"Drinks tonight? On me, of course."

"Busy, Seamus. Sorry." The speed at which the woman wrote did not falter as she answered the young man who, at one point, had been grinning down at her. Now he much resembled the creatures he worked with, sad and forlorn.

Day in and out, since Hermione had begun working in House Elf Relocation and met her former schoolmate, she had been plagued with requests of dates from the man. It wasn't that he was unattractive; she often heard the other women in the office tittering about how _fit_ he and his companion, Dean, who worked in the Division of Beasts were.

She simply didn't have the time for those sorts of leisurely activities. Not when she was so close to revolutionizing the way the Wizarding World interacted with house elves. And besides, Harry and Ron provided more than enough dramatic flair in her life that she needn't think of such things.

Seamus gathered his worn leather satchel from his cubicle beside Hermione's and shuffled through the doors of the Ministry of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures with a wounded ego. Hermione was not too worried about her colleague; he would bounce back and be ready to try again the following day.

"I saw all of that."

This time, it was a petite blonde woman who interrupted what Hermione considered to be crucial work. Although her shift had ended moments ago, she was known to work overtime without ever expecting pay.

Slightly annoyed, but not too bothered, Hermione glanced up. "Saw what?"

"Seamus trying to pry you out of your cubby," Daphne said, leaning on the grey wall that divided Hermione from her neighbour. "You should really be a little nicer when you say no."

"You should also clean the dishes when your turn comes around, but you never do." Hermione leafed through the pages in front of her, wondering if she should head home now or stay a little longer to finish up.

Her flatmate rolled her eyes without caring for subtlety and picked up Hermione's simple black handbag for her. "Come on now, _I'm_ taking you out for drinks."

"You'll do nothing of the sort," Hermione disagreed. "It's Thursday and I've got an early meeting with Gordon Gobstone."

Daphne had no idea to whom her friend was referring, and ignored her protestations. "A quiet night in, then."

Hermione rose to her feet with it being clear that she was no longer allowed to work in the peace she required. Before she could open her mouth to reply Daphne continued,

"Wine and chocolate, and one of those muggle movies of yours." She offered Hermione the bag before the two left the office at a brisk pace. "There's no room for argument, you need to rest that mind of yours. I can practically hear it whirring away beside me."

Hermione offered Daphne a small smile in affection at the way she worried over her wellbeing. She offered no more objections and satisfied, Daphne stepped into one of the many fire-places of level four after promising to be home quickly from her quick apparition to Hogsmeade to get the chocolate from the Honeydukes store itself.

The real reason Hermione declined to object further, however, was because he knew that by the time she had finished her first glass Daphne would be on her fourth, and wouldn't notice her disappearing into her bedroom to continue her work.

It was a semi-regular occurrence in the flat located above the stationery store in Diagon Alley, a flat that was very nearly too small for the both of them, but somehow they had made it into a cozy nesting place.

She stepped into the green fire and only seconds later was returned home. The only sign of Daphne having already been through the place was the small set of sooty footprints across the cream coloured rug. Hermione scoffed at them, as she always did, _scourgify_ing her own feet before she did the same to the tracks on the floor.

She threw her bag onto the couch a little recklessly in order to pull off the blazer she had been wearing for the majority of the day. It was far too hot in the flat. For early May, the weather had been damningly scorching.

Prying open the stubborn window in the kitchen to let some cool air in Hermione then decided to make herself a cup of tea, knowing that Daphne would no doubt be flirting with the attractive shop assistant for a little while longer yet.

It was just beginning to grow dark; the sun had already disappeared behind the high, misshapen roofs of the Alley and Hermione was forced to light the candles with a flick of her wand. Some were growing rather stubby and she knew that she would soon have to buy more because Daphne, ever so forgetful, would not do the simple task.

A sharp tap on her door surprised her. While they had placed, or rather _she_ had placed, enchantments to disallow direct apparition into the flat, a habit from the war, Daphne had her own key. She would not be knocking, which left Hermione to wonder who was.

Barely opening the door a crack, Hermione had to jump aside as the door was flung open violently. Needless to say she was surprised when Ron staggered in, Harry's arm thrown over his shoulder, head hanging limply.

She was not surprised by the state of Harry, it was something they seemed to insist she see regularly, it was more so the fact that this was the first time she had seen or heard from them in two months. She often wondered if she had done something to offend either of them, but seeing them now proved that theory wrong.

"What was it this time?" she questioned as Ron unceremoniously dumped Harry on the long chair, exhaling loudly in relief.

"Don't reckon I could tell you exactly, probably a stunning spell, but we were ambushed and I can't remember much."

"Kettle's on in the kitchen. Go make yourself a cuppa and I'll add something to it to heal all those little nicks you've got." She knelt down before Harry, examining him thoroughly. It _was_ a stunning spell, which meant he'd be up and about in a few minutes. She would, however, have to heal the nasty gash on his shoulder.

She entered the kitchen to find Ron pouring them both some tea and ignored his goings about the room as she searched through her small potions cabinet for what she needed. Finding the healing salve, as well as a few herbs for Ron, she sprinkled them in his tea before rejoining the unconscious man in her living room.

"You know, St. Mungos does this sort of thing – free of charge, might I add – and they are far more equipped than I am."

"You're the best at everything, Hermione," Ron dissented, placing her cup on one of the numerous coasters littering the room. "I'd come to you over a stranger in a heartbeat."

Flattered, but still in disagreement, Hermione decided to keep her mouth shut as she slathered the salve on Harry's wound, watching with satisfaction as the flesh regrew and skin covered what it once was.

"A difficult case?"

"Three months searching for the ruddy bastard."

"You could've sent a postcard."

Hermione and Ron shared wry grins and took to drinking their tea and catching up on the past months they had been apart. Although it was not the same as seeing each other daily at Hogwarts, Hermione still thought herself of being as close to the boys as she had been then.

It was only as she began washing up in the kitchen that Harry began to stir in the chair and Hermione rushed back to the room, forgetting about the dishes.

"Sit back, don't rush things," she instructed as he tried to lean forward. Harry groaned and reached to touch his forehead.

"How long have I been down?"

"About half an hour," Hermione answered. Harry opened his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings. When he found Ron he opened his mouth to speak again but his partner interrupted,

"Yes, we caught Dalhuv," Ron stated. "You almost got yourself killed when you didn't wait for backup."

"Harry," Hermione chastised upon hearing this. "You're the Head Auror, you should know better than to do that."

"You lot certainly make me feel as if I'm not, and just a boy back at Hogwarts." Harry sighed, sitting up despite Hermione's protests. "Hermione, I'm fine. I just need a drink and some rest."

Hermione's lips slimmed into an unimpressed line and the door swung open for the second time that evening revealing the former female Slytherin holding up a bottle of wine and a Honeydukes bag with a triumphant grin.

Upon seeing the blood and Harry and Ron's somewhat haggard appearances, however, Daphne's expression soon became worrisome as she stated, "I guess I should have bought another bottle."


End file.
